


Rule number 3: The person carrying the growing human will be left alone when needed.

by thesarcasticone



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: AU, F/M, Fluff, Ye have been warned, baby naming, pregnancy fic, where everything goes well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 22:03:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8595520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesarcasticone/pseuds/thesarcasticone
Summary: Pursing her lips she adds, "Then you can explain to me why you decided to violate rule number 3 of our pregnancy policy." She finishes by giving him a quick peck, feeling strangely empowered by the outcome of their little verbal exchange...---Wes gets an idea and he can't seem to find peace until he tells Laurel about it, no matter the consequences.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm still in denial, I think I'll stay there for a while. Writing this was my way of coping with such horrible news. I literally wrote this between tears and sobs, a happy little scene between the two characters who stole my heart and then broke weeks later. 
> 
> All mistakes are my own and my sobbing and crying heart's.

She's almost seven months pregnant when the name suddenly comes to him.

 

He rushes over to her place, ignoring the fact she specifically told him to not bother her until she gave him the all clear. It wasn’t the time to obey her silly pregnancy rules, rules he constantly found himself breaking anyway.

 

So he rushed, grabbing her bike instead of his, because he had been restless and there was a feeling of urgency within him to communicate his idea. For months she had been pestering him about his desire to name their kid, claiming she wanted to wait until the baby was born to assign it a proper calling; which meant weeks of having to endure Asher and his far too white name ideas, Michaela and her extravagant and unpronounceable suggestions, and Annalise with her quiet but not so subtle hints.

 

So he insisted on naming her, their daughter, on ending both of their misery and giving a name to the small person they unknowingly created. She still refused, somehow being far more stronger than he was, being able to swiftly ignore their annoying friend's and colleague's attitudes as if she were oil and they water.

 

Until finally she succumbed, and one day in court, grabbing him by his tie, she whispered: "Get me a decent name or I'll end up killing Asher and then will have to explain to Michaela why her boyfriend's brains are splattered all across Annalise's kitchen!"

 

He started looking into names ever since.

 

Eight names he tried by then, all of them unsuccessful tries. He can’t shake the feeling that this one is different, that she will approve of the idea of it.

 

His knocks are desperate, not caring if she gets annoyed by his actions, she was already annoyed at him last time he saw her.

 

"I swear if you- Wes?" She answers, her face shifting from annoyed to a kind of pleasant shock Wes has gotten used to being the receiving end of.

 

"I got one." He doesn’t even bother asking for her permission, he simply barges in, across her threshold and into a room he has grown to know almost as well as his own dingy place.

 

Laurel doesn’t argue against his intrusion, already knowing and admitting to herself the absurdity of her plea for solitude, and expecting nothing less of him. She gives him a confused smile, one that hides a thousand meanings, yet Wes has grown to know how to decipher.

 

"What?"

 

"The name, I think I finally have a good one."

 

She stares at him, almost daringly, as if challenging him to impress her; which for all Wes knows, she is.

 

"I was thinking maybe Nadia." He lets the idea spill out of his mouth, almost instantly offering up an explanation for his choice, as if he were nervous about her reaction, so carefully guarded it almost scares him.

 

"It means hope, and I thought it would work well because of the -"

 

She interrupts him with a kiss, making him loose his balance and almost throwing him backwards. After recuperating, his hands instantly come to rest around her swollen waist with their kid firmly pressed between them as they share a quick kiss.

 

"I love you. You know that, right?"

 

He chuckles because he is aware of her getting emotional more than ever nowadays, but his brown chocolate eyes shine bright with a love all of his own.

 

"So you like it?" He's tentative to even ask, his eyes searching for answers inside her blue orbs, his arms still surrounding her.

 

She only smirks at him, almost biting her lip in order to contain the idiotic grin she is sure would appear on her face. Because she can’t help but silently agree with everyone else when she sees him staring at her with those big, brown, adoring eyes -he does kind of look like a puppy.

 

"How about, I add it to the list for consideration." She playfully replies, enjoying the way he can’t seem to stop staring at her growing stomach between them. Pursing her lips she adds, "Then you can explain to me why you decided to violate rule number 3 of our pregnancy policy." She finishes by giving him a quick peck, feeling strangely empowered by the outcome of their little verbal exchange and the fact she actually likes the name he has provided her with. Her minds fills with the images she has been trying to suppress for almost seven months, images of a bouncing girl, with her hands raised high wanting to hold onto her parents as she jumps high in the air. Having a name inside her mind makes it harder to control emotions she already feels she has no control over.

 

Wes groans as she leaves him standing in the middle of her living room, making her chuckle. She isn't angry at him for barging in on her, no matter how bothered she acts about it. She considered calling him an hour before, when the silence became far too unbearable, and the outline she had been working on wouldn’t cooperate with her.

 

"Laurel," he adds. He follows her into her room, walking behind her, with a view of her light wobble as she makes her way to her bed, the newly acquired walking pattern quite evident. He keeps the observation to himself, being well aware of what the consequences of commenting on it would be.

 

She flops down on her bed with enough force that sends papers and notes flying around her room and unto her floor. Her own weight makes her tumble backwards and almost fall, a loud huff coming out of her mouth as she realizes what she provoked.

 

Wes decides to stay behind, leaning against the doorframe, watching her meticulously as she tries to maneuver herself, biting his own lip so as to not laugh in her face.

 

"What?" She huffs out, a tad of annoyance leaking unto her tone of voice.

 

"Nothing, nothing, you just -" he takes her in, searching for a word that would do her justice.

 

She patiently waits, curious as to what sappy but adorable thing he will tell her, trying her hardest to convince herself she did not have a weakness for his niceness.

 

"-adorable."

 

"Shut up." She laughs, open and silly.

 

"No, I mean it. You do look adorable." He joins in her laughter as he decides to finally enter her room, slowly making his way towards her bed.

 

"Shut up, or you're not getting any of my outlines." She threatens, with fierce eyes and a stern voice, but the threat is as empty as her barren fridge, and they both know it.

 

"Your mom gets grouchy when she gets complimented, Nadia." He sits next to her as he makes the comment, his gaze firmly planted on Laurel's growing abdomen. She makes room for him, moving the few papers which still managed to remain on top of her bed aside for him.

 

She wears the dopey smile she wanted to evade, mentally blames it on the annoying hormones which have been messing with her far more than usual. She can't seem to help it, but hearing him calling their kid by a name has her dangerously close to tearing up.

 

"What she gets is easily annoyed, bloated and hungry." She sniffs and waits for him to stare up at her, her eyes pleading a warning to not comment on her sudden burst of emotion.

 

He expertly reads her and after almost a minute of silence they both can’t help but end up laughing, their eyes shifting towards her ever growing stomach and the kid growing within - their kid.

 

Without words, because after all this time and everything that happened, words were sometimes more of a burden than a necessity; Laurel moves towards him, seeking his body and warmth. She rests against him, her head landing perfectly over his chest, a feeling of security and home engulfing her.

 

Wes welcomes her with one arm safely wrapping around her, his thumb finding her shoulder and starting its well established rhythmic dance across her skin which he knows lulls her into relaxation and sleep.

 

"Did you get enough study time?" He whispers in the night, with his eyes already closed, and a breathing pattern which warns against the inevitability of his falling asleep.

 

"Yeah, enough. Right before she started kicking me into madness“, she answers, in company with a small and almost forced out chuckle which is closely followed by a yawn.

 

He kisses the crown of her head, a sign of both comfort and reassurance.

 

"I love you. You know that, right?" He mimics her words as both are being pulled into a sleep they both feel they more than deserve.

 

"I love you both."

 

She hears him mutter before succumbing to sleep, before being won over by the constant and rhythmic caress of his fingers, by the constant beating of his heart.

 

"We know."

 

She isn't sure if she does manage to voice it, but she thinks the words with such intensity and vigor she is sure they are heard by him.

 

They fall asleep in less than a minute, smiles on their faces and a peacefulness surrounding them which has finally stopped scaring them.

 

 

 

 


End file.
